


Earthshine: You Illuminate Me

by zjofierose



Series: Zjo's zine fics [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Golden Boy Shiro, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Neglect, M/M, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22453351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjofierose/pseuds/zjofierose
Summary: ~Past~Takashi Shirogane is perfect. It’s a well-accepted fact among the student body, the same as the sun rising in the east, Iverson being a dick, and the mess hall food only being edible on Thursdays. Keith doesn’t much care about it one way or another. Sure, the guy is stupid handsome, and yeah, he was the one who “gave him a second chance” or whatever motivational bull that was supposed to be, but Keith’s pretty sure that will be their one and only interaction: a do-gooder golden boy doing right by a charity case.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Zjo's zine fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1503608
Comments: 6
Kudos: 74





	Earthshine: You Illuminate Me

**Author's Note:**

> So grateful for the chance to write for the Per Aspera Ad Astra zine! This was my little piece for the Past section - I hope you like it!
> 
> Many thanks to verity for the content discussions/beta job!

Takashi Shirogane is perfect. It’s a well-accepted fact among the student body, the same as the sun rising in the east, Iverson being a dick, and the mess hall food only being edible on Thursdays. Keith doesn’t much care about it one way or another. Sure, the guy is stupid handsome, and yeah, he was the one who “gave him a second chance” or whatever motivational bull that was supposed to be, but Keith’s pretty sure that will be their one and only interaction: a do-gooder golden boy doing right by a charity case. 

It’s fine. Keith’s used to it. He’s happy to be in the Garrison instead of the group home, even if his tolerance for all this military discipline and inspirational/aspirational nonsense is barely above zero on a good day. It’s fine. He keeps his head down and shows up when he’s supposed to for classes and drills. He doesn’t do his homework, because why bother? But it doesn’t matter, he aces his tests like he always has. It’s fine.

And then there’s the day he punches James Griffin in the mouth, and suddenly there’s Takashi Shirogane again, in his perfect uniform with his perfect jawline and his perfect hair, and he’s holding his hand out to Keith and telling him he  _ can’t give up on himself _ , and damned if Keith doesn’t look straight in Takashi Shirogane’s beautiful grey eyes and succumb to the momentary belief that maybe someone  _ does  _ care whether he sinks or swims, whether he fails or succeeds. 

It’s like any other high, of course, and it dissipates within a couple hours, leaving Keith alone in his room with the homework he’s not doing. He’s not expecting the knock on his door, and he’s certainly not expecting to open it to reveal Takashi Shirogane, Garrison-issue uniform still impeccable despite it being after 2000 hours.

“...can I help you?” Keith ventures after a long moment, curling his toes under self-consciously in a half-assed attempt to hide the holes in his socks. 

Takashi Shirogane studies him. “Are you busy?”

“No,” Keith answers, then realizes he probably should have said yes, because, well, homework. 

The same thing must occur to Takashi Shirogane, because he lifts an eyebrow incredulously, but he doesn’t comment on it. “Get your boots,” he says, and Keith folds his arms. Sure, this is a senior cadet, but he’s not technically the boss of Keith, and even if he were, Keith isn’t exactly known for rolling over for authority figures. 

“Why?” 

“Well, I mean, if you  _ don’t  _ want to go check out the simulators...”

The answer is as unexpected as Shiro’s smile, and Keith hesitates only for a moment before deciding to just go with it. He wasn’t doing anything else anyway, and he doesn’t really feel like going head to head with some over-achiever who’s ready to make a point. 

He gets his boots. 

\--

“Now  _ that _ ,” Takashi Shirogane says to him after Keith makes it through level thirteen of the sim course, “is more like what I expected.” 

His voice is full of delight, and Keith chances a look over. His eyes are dancing and his white-toothed grin is devastating. Keith looks back at the screen.

“What do you mean,” he asks, because even knowing that he’s just a way to make this guy feel good about himself for checking in on the stray he dragged in, Keith can’t help but want that excitement to be real, to be genuine, to be about  _ him _ .

“I mean that the simulator records I’ve seen for the three weeks you’ve been here don’t look a thing like what I saw you doing at school when I met you.”

Keith can feel his hands tightening on the control stick. 

“They don’t like it when I fly like this.”

Takashi Shirogane makes a thoughtful noise, and Keith doesn’t let himself turn to look at his face. 

“So you compromise your own abilities to keep from bruising other people’s egos?”

The question is neutrally delivered, but it makes Keith bristle, and he can’t even really say why. 

“I just got here,” he grits out, “I don’t want to make trouble and get kicked out.”

“Right. And that’s why you blacked James Griffin’s eye this morning,” Takashi Shirogane says speculatively. “If being a prodigy is ‘making trouble’, then I want you to make a lot more of it, understand? Hiding your abilities for someone else’s comfort is no way to live.”

There’s a light-hearted tone in his voice, but there’s the same thread of easy confidence that was there when he said “ _ you’re getting a second chance. _ ” Easy to say, Keith thinks, and rolls his eyes. 

“Yes, Cadet Shirogane,” he says in a monotone, and endures the resulting chuckle. 

“Just call me Shiro,” Takashi Shirogane says, and climbs out of his seat, holding out a hand to help Keith down from the cockpit. “Now. Wanna talk about your homework?”

\--

Shiro, apparently, has been making inquiries of Keith’s teachers. Keith wouldn’t have been surprised if Shiro had gone hunting around for info on him after having vouched for him earlier today, but no, it seems that Shiro has been keeping tabs on him since day one, and Keith… Keith doesn’t know what to do with that.

“So, let me make sure I have this straight,” Shiro had said, calling up Keith’s classes, test scores, and current standings on his padd. “You ace every test, but you never do homework and you never participate in class. Does that sound about right?”

Keith studies his cuticles.

“Why?” Shiro sounds genuinely curious, but it’s obviously a trap. Still, there’s something compelling about his patient gaze, and Keith finds himself opening his mouth without conscious volition.

“Why should I? The classwork is dumb, and the homework is boring.”

“Yes,” Shiro frowns, “I see your point.” He taps away on his padd at lightning speed, a small crease between his brows that only serves to make his concentrating face look sexier. “Okay,” Shiro continues, pulling Keith’s padd out of his hands and lining it up with his own, “I’m transferring over some of my texts from second year that are applicable to the classes you’re already in.”

Keith crosses his arms. “And why would I want those?”

Shiro shrugs. “Maybe you don’t. But I have sim privileges here every Tuesday and Thursday evening for three hours, and it’s very possible that the entry password for the room is going to be questions from those texts, so.”

Keith can feel his bored expression slipping, and tries his hardest to drag his face back to neutral. He can’t be sure what’s happening here, but it feels like he’s teetering on the edge of a precipice, complete with the sudden tremble in his hands and blood roaring in his ears. 

Shiro’s padd gives a soft ping, and his face lights up. “Ah!” he says, quickly tapping a few more entries on both padds before passing Keith’s back to him. “It’s all approved. You’ll continue attending your classes, taking all tests, and participating in any required projects. But if you get your homework completion and attendance percentages over 80%, I’m authorized to take you out on the hoverbikes.” He grins, and Keith feels like the world is shifting on its axis. “Ever flown one of those?”

Keith is silent for a long moment, flicking through his padd and trying not to stare at the sudden influx of high-level texts and articles. He clears his throat.

“...why?” he asks, stubbornly refusing not to be embarrassed when his voice cracks. 

Shiro studies his face for a long moment. His voice when he answers is soft, and Keith looks at his padd so that he doesn’t have to stare at the sun.

“Because you’re brilliant, Keith. Because you’ve managed to get by so far with flying under the radar, but you’re capable of so much more than that.” His tone is devastatingly earnest, and Keith wants to smash his padd onto the table into a hundred thousand pieces. “You deserve to give yourself better than this,” Shiro says, and Keith shoves his padd into his bag, standing so fast his head swims.

“Are we done here,” he asks, and he can hear Shiro’s brief pause before Keith sees him nod out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, we’re done here.” Shiro stands also, and he’s so big next to Keith, so big and so goddamn good. “Get some sleep,” he says, clapping a hand on Keith’s shoulder just briefly enough that he misses Keith’s responding flinch, “I’ll come by at 0600 in case you want to join me for some gym time.”

Keith flees.

\--

Keith can’t sleep. 

He tosses and turns all night. Shiro’s pleased voice echoes in his ears, Shiro’s earnest, perfect face is all he sees when he closes his eyes. It makes him angry, restless and unsettled. He wants to run, wants to punch something, wants to scream until his throat is raw. He thrashes instead until he’s irretrievably tangled in the linens, then rips the sheets off his legs and bursts into silent tears, curling in on himself as he shakes so that his bunk stays still and his roommate is none the wiser.

He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want the attention, doesn’t want the fear of disappointing. He doesn’t want to be seen, not by Shiro, not by anyone, because if anyone  _ sees  _ him, if anyone  _ expects  _ anything of him, then it’s inevitable that he will fail them. 

He doesn’t want to fail Shiro, and he hates it.

\--

By the time Shiro shows up at 0600, Keith’s finished the first seven articles that Shiro had sent. He hasn’t slept, but he has shined his boots and pressed his uniform. 

Shiro looks him up and down, his face calm and the aura of authority lingering even though he’s dressed in a worn out Garrison Rugby t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. “You look a little peaky,” he says, and Keith scowls. 

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Shiro’s face softens, and he reaches out again, resting that hand on Keith’s shoulder. It’s warm and solid, just like Shiro himself, and Keith feels colder a moment later when Shiro takes it back. 

“Gonna be a rough day.”

Keith shrugs. “I’ll be fine.”

Shiro doesn’t call him out on the lie, just twitches an eyebrow skeptically and smiles, then tips his head to the hallway. “Come on,” he says, “let’s find out if you’re as fast on the track as you are in the sims.”

The rising sun shines through the windows, haloing Shiro’s dark hair with golden light. 

“I’m gonna beat you,” Keith says, and pulls the door behind him. 

Shiro just throws his head back and laughs.


End file.
